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Sunday, April 1, 2018

Guardian Angels - If It's Fated… (11)

For the next two days, Tim saw very little of Dom,
other than in passing. He figured with both of them working that wasn't too
surprising, but still he missed his company.

Wednesday came and with it, a surprise that had
nothing to do with Dom.

It was mid-afternoon and Tim was doing his usual
routine when he wasn't helping out at the check-out desk—shelving books and
pointing readers in the right directions for specific books they wanted. He'd
just finished showing a woman where to find ones about computer programming. As
they had a sum total of five, he wasn't surprised she needed his assistance. On
his way back to the fiction half of the library, he heard Cherie's familiar
voice telling someone—he presumed it was Mrs Norton—"He has to be here.
He's always here."

He chuckled while hurrying the rest of the way to his
destination. "I don't live here," he said with a bit of amusement
when he spotted her in the children's section. Then he realized she hadn't been
talking to her nanny. Her father stood a few feet away. When he heard Tim's
reply, he turned and smiled.

"That's what I was about to tell her. She seems
to think you're a fixture here, no matter when."

"I feel like it," Tim said nervously,
glancing away and then back at Richard. Swallowing hard, he asked,
"Where's Mrs Norton?"

"She had an emergency, so I took off work early.
Cherie insisted we had to come here right from school. Something about dinosaur
books you promised to show her."

"Grownup ones," Cherie said. "Not the
silly kids ones with pictures and not many words."

Tim nodded. "Come on; let's go see what we can
find for you." As they crossed to the non-fiction section, he was very
aware that Richard was following right behind them. Too aware. He found his
hands were shaking when they got to the right section and he took out a couple
of books he thought Cherie could handle. She immediately went to the closest
table to look at them.

"And well above her grade level." Tim tried
to think of something, anything, to keep the conversation going. "She… she
said she wanted to read 'The Secret Garden' because Mrs Norton told her your
garden reminded her of the book."

"I'm afraid she's right. Well, sort of. There's
a high brick wall around it and, unfortunately, I don't seem to have the time
I'd like to tend to the plants." Richard chuckled. "I was a bit
overly ambitious when I first bought the house. I envisioned flowers and bushes
and even vegetables. The vegetables never happened and the flowers have taken
over where the bushes haven't."

"Perennials?"

"Yes. Mostly wildflowers, so they come back each
year with reckless abandon. It's actually something to see come
springtime."

"I'd… I can imagine," Tim replied, wishing
he had the nerve to say he'd like to see it.

Richard hesitated then said, "Spring is a long
way off, but maybe…"

"Five months…"

"Daddy, look!" Cherie exclaimed, holding up
one of the books to show Richard a picture. "It's the dinosaur we saw at
the museum."

"So it is. An Apatosaurus or…" he read what
it said under the picture, "what I grew up calling a Brontosaurus."

"Uh-huh." She went back to looking through
the books.

Richard chuckled. "Next thing I know she's going
to want to start excavating in the garden to see if she can find some bones.
She's already planning on how to fix it up, the way the kids did in that
story."

Tim grinned. "Did she plot out murders when she
was going through her Nancy Drew phase?"

"Mysteries, yes. I don't remember that she tried
to figure out how to kill anyone, thank goodness. She actually sat down at the
computer and wrote a story about one of them for a school assignment."
Richard glanced at his daughter, smiling. "She got an A for it."

"Maybe she's a budding author."

"Or a doctor, or a vet, or… this week it'll be a
paleontologist."

"Daddy, I'm hungry." Cherie bounced to her
feet, putting on the jacket she'd discarded when she sat down. "And you
promised we could go the burger place instead of you cooking 'cause Mrs
Norton's not there."

Richard rolled his eyes, explaining to Tim, "Mrs
Norton usually makes dinner for us during the week, but obviously not tonight.
So I opened my big mouth and…" He paused. "If you want to join
us?"

Tim gulped. "Really?"

"Sure."

"I… I wish I could, but I don't get off until
eight. It's Wednesday and we close late."

Richard nodded. "Maybe some other time? Or… you
do get lunch breaks, I presume."

"Yes."

"If you want, maybe… I work a few blocks from
here, so perhaps we could meet for lunch?"

"Me too?" Cherie piped up.

"Nope. You'll be in school."

"Daddy," she whined.

"Cherie…"

"Sorry."

Turning back to Tim, Richard said, "Tomorrow?
When is your break?"

"At one," Tim told him, his pulse beating
faster.

"Do you know Comforts?"

"Yes. It's got pretty good lunches."

"Great. I'll meet you there at one?"

"I… sure."

"Perfect. Okay, Cherie, let's go have burgers and
fries."

Tim watched in total disbelief as Richard and Cherie
left the library. I have…a date? Or…or something. He was grinning ear to ear as
he went back to work.

"You look like the cat who swallowed the
canary," Ms Gaines at the checkout desk said.

"Just… well…" Tim stuttered.

She arched an eyebrow. "Whatever's making you
smile like that—I like it."

So do I. I
just hope he really meant it and shows up. "Thanks," he replied, before going to help a woman who
looked lost as she perused the science fiction section.

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About Me

Born and bred Cleveland, I earned a degree in technical theater, later switched to costuming, and headed to NYC. Finally seeing the futility of trying to become rich and famous in the Big Apple, I joined VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America), ending up in Chicago for three years. Then it was on to Denver where I put down roots and worked as a costume designer until just recently.
I began writing five years ago after joining an on-line fanfic group. Two friends and I then started a group for writers where they may post any story they wish no matter the genre or content. Since then, for the last two years, I’ve been writing for publication. Most, but not all, of my work is m/m, either mildly erotic or purely ‘romantic’, and more often than not it involves a mystery or covert operations.